


Dreaming of places when lovers have wings

by Kairin16



Category: The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Cap_Ironman Reverse Bang Challenge, Fairy Tales, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-10 23:12:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kairin16/pseuds/Kairin16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony wakes up in a strange place without any recollection how he got there or what happened to him the day before. Can he find his way home before it's too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreaming of places when lovers have wings

**Author's Note:**

> Gorgeous art to the story created by Wiredoll is [here](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/wire_doll/63838673/1889/1889_900.jpg)

My head  throbs in a way I can recall way too clearly from  nights of alcohol and not enough sleep. It makes the pulse in my ears sound unbearably loud. The lights dig little pinpricks of pain into my brain through my eyelids. The only thing stopping me from telling JARVIS to pull the blinds down is the fact that I feel like if I open my mouth I’ll vomit. Instead, I turn onto my side and rub my cheek over something that isn’t as soft as my bed and smells like grass. A glance from under my lashes reveals a cheery stream nearby. Which explains the noise I keep hearing. There’s something fundamentally wrong with this picture, but it takes my hurting head a while to realize what.

Sitting up shoots a new flare of pain down my spine, it hurts so bad I almost curl back down.   If I wasn’t panicking I’d probably give into that urge.  My breath comes in short gasps and it’s not long before I’m choking, turning around myself and looking desperately for any signs of familiarity. There are none. Where the fuck am I? I have a clear memory of going to my own bed in my own tower, and although getting drunk would explain both the headache and waking up in a strange place (happened before) it would still remain unclear why  I’m in the fucking forest. It was definitely a forest, with trees higher than some New York skyscrapers. I was surrounded on all sides by trees and green, the sounds of birds singing overhead made my head hurt worse.  Ladies and gentleman, we’re not in Kansas anymore.

Ha, Capsicle would have a field day with that. There were still precious few references he got, but they saw Wizard of Oz again just last weekend. I’m not above admitting it’s incredibly amusing when he gets all proud after understanding one of my references. It’s also kinda cute, but he’s not going to find that out. I don’t let the panic seize me for long. I’m Tony fucking Stark after all. I’ve gotten myself out of situations that looked dire before. I can do it again, no problem.

The forest seems huge and deep from where I’m sitting. There was exactly one point in my life when I went rural and joined Boy Scouts. It was by my father’s request and lasted an entire two days after which they sent me home for setting fire to the cabin. To be fair, that wasn’t actually me, but it worked out in my favour so I didn’t correct anyone’s assumptions.

A fucking doe is peeking out at me from behind some rocks. That freaks me out even more than the suspicious glittery quality of the sunlight. It all screams of wrongness, and I have a feeling I would still think so, even if I wasn’t a total city boy. A quick check of my inventory shows that I have my shoes and jeans on, together with the shirt I slept in, but not much more. There’s a stick of chewing gum in my back pocket and a penknife that is certainly not mine in my front one. Nothing I could use.

I step closer to the stream, rubbing at the bridge of my nose to stem the headache. It seems like it’s getting dark already and I don’t know if it’s because of some strange rule in this place or if I just slept for that long. Maybe both. More proof that I’m nowhere near New York glares at me from the bottom of the stream. I can actually _see_ the bottom of the stream. The pollution of the city would prevent me from doing so back home. It’s not a big stream, although I can’t say I’m an expert on these things, but it does seem unusually deep. I think I can see something like caves if I look hard enough at the bank on the other side.

The water on my face feels heavenly. It clears the grit away from my eyes and makes me feel more or less alive. I hesitate only a little bit before drinking some of it, figuring that death from potential poisoning at least would be quicker than one from thirst. Still, I’m more than a little relieved when it turns out the water’s fine.

There is no way of finding out where I am and trying to figure out how I got here only makes my headache worse. I know it can’t be a kidnapping attempt. First of all, anyone approaching the tower, even teleporters, would trip the proximity alert and if I somehow failed to wake up at the sound, the tower is full of superheroes that wouldn’t just ignore it. Second,  I know how kidnappers work and they don’t leave their prey in the middle of a forest. That kind of defeats the whole purpose.

Sometimes, after a spectacularly bad night with too much alcohol (and drugs, but I don’t like to use those often, I never did, they mess with my brain chemistry too much and I love my brain) I have woken up without knowing where I was. Or who was sleeping next to me. Or where my pants were. The point is, black outs happen. Happened. Not so much now that I’m an Avenger and have responsibilities other than ruining my own liver. But I would remember drinking at least something and the headache still pulsing in my temples is nothing like a hangover. That leaves me two options, either Barton is pranking me or there is magic involved. Barton isn’t this imaginative and Cap would make disappointed faces at him for a week, so  it’s unlikely this is Barton’s doing.

Which means magic. I hate magic. You can never plan for magic, because it’s unpredictable and can do things that shouldn’t be possible. Fighting with it is a pain in the ass and being under a spell is an even bigger one. I’d know, I’ve been in this superhero gig for over two years now and I’ve met various types. So magic  would explain some things, like the eerie feel of the forest and too friendly animals. It also presents the problem of how the hell do I get back home?

I really hate magic.

Yesterday was Halloween, a day that invited all sorts of freaks into the open. But no matter how hard I try to remember if we had some run-ins with anyone, I can’t. It’s like something is there at the edge of my consciousness, but slips away every time I try to pull it to the front of my mind. I hate this feeling, I don’t get this often, I am a genius after all, but when it happens, it’s the most annoying feeling in the world. There had to be someone. Magic attacks don’t come from nowhere. Was someone trying to take over the world? Or the city? Or the damn donut shop at the corner that never failed to screw up my order? It doesn’t make any sense for the whole ‘ most magical day in the year’ to go without an attack. But I have nothing. I remember the morning and Cap yapping at me long enough that I gave in and ate his goddamn waffles and then I remember stumbling up to the bedroom in the evening with everything aching like something slammed me into a wall. Or several.

But nothing in between. Fuck.

There are faint lines around my wrists and forearms that I discover are all over my body with no discernible pattern, like something took a whip to me, but was kind of half-hearted about the whole thing. Except the line around my torso which is as thick as my arm. But they’re all faded, like they’re going to disappear on me at any minute. They also bring forward no memories whatsoever although they should, because a man just doesn’t wake up with strange markings all over his body and not remember how he got them. Okay, sometimes that happens, but it usually doesn’t involve magical forests and whip-like lines.

It makes an unusual amount of sense that whoever transported me here wouldn’t want me to remember who he is or how I pissed him off. I probably mouthed off. That happens staggeringly often and I usually have to sit through a seminar of why is it not okay to provoke the villains I’m fighting against. I like it better when Cap talks, then at least I have something pretty to look at.

Well, there’s nothing to it but to go exploring. I didn’t become Iron Man by sitting around and waiting for a rescue like some damsel in distress. That’s not my style. Still, I’m kinda reluctant to leave the only place I’m now somewhat familiar with, no matter how pressing the time is. It gets darker and darker with every minute. I’m not afraid to admit that I was also a little scared of what might be waiting for me deeper in the forest. There’s nothing very sinister or evil in just transporting me to a place full of trees (unless there’s no way out, but I’d rather not think about that.) Which means there has to be something out there capable of hurting me. Maybe even a few somethings.

Did I mention that I fucking hate magic?

  I figure sitting on my ass won’t get me anywhere, so I might as well move. Besides,  curiosity was always my biggest flaw anyway. Everything goes wrong in the blink of an eye. The moment I turn to stand up there are arms around my neck, dragging me backwards into the stream

I try not to think of the last time my lungs were screaming for oxygen, the flashes of light from above don’t help with the feeling of terror squeezing my stomach. This is nothing like back then. I’m not in the dessert. I’m not surrounded by men who want to kill me – I don’t know that, how can I even know that? I’m not being forced to make weapons, but what if that’s the point though, how long will it be before I break, like I broke before, I need to breathe, I need up, I don’t want to die, please –

The arms tighten around me as I struggle and I see a wave of red followed by a smile full of sharpened teeth. I think of blood, but that’s not it. It’s hair. Long and flowing; red like my Iron Man armour. It’s a woman holding me tight, pulling me down, down, down. I get a glimpse of a fish tail and realize that there’s no coming up this time. She’s not there to persuade me into anything, doesn’t want my tech, or my secrets, or my loyalty.

She wants to drown me.

I’m held by a real life mermaid of all things, and not the one that Disney painted. This is one from the sailor legends that pulled you down and watched you die and then fed on your flesh. The stream is too deep. She’s still pulling me down and I can’t see the bank anymore. For the first time I realize how stupid I was to trust anything in this magic forest some psycho transported me to.

There is a reason I don’t have a bathtub in my bathroom, why I no longer go surfing even though I grew up in Malibu and loved doing that for so many years. Water is evil, water is not to be trusted, what prompted me to even think it was a good idea to sit so close to that strange stream for so long? I saw the caves, I should have known something was living here, and now I’m going to die, just like I was supposed to all these years ago. Water closes around me, choking me to death, cutting off any oxygen I might have left. There’s no shrapnel, no battle wound, just water and me and this woman that holds on too tightly. This time there isn’t anyone here to save me, to say it’s enough, pull him up.

My struggles weaken and I sag into the grip, but she doesn’t let go, she’s too smart for that. I would use  any slack she gave me, so she won’t give me any. My hand drifts downwards and I brush my pocket. There’s a sudden tightness in my chest that has nothing to do with how much I need to breathe, and everything with how stupid I seem to be today. The penknife slips out from my pocket easily, and although opening it is tricky underwater, it’s not impossible. I slash at the hand holding me and there’s a pained shriek in my ear that makes me go momentarily deaf, but it’s enough. She loosens her grip.

I don’t have much strength left, but thankfully the mermaid doesn’t seem interested in pursuing a dinner that might fight back. The journey to the surface is endless, but I finally resurface, gripping at the grass on the bank and gulping in air greedily. I curl safely a few feet away from the water, just breathing for as long as it takes for my lungs to stop burning, tears leak down my cheeks. I hate water. I hate it almost as much as magic, although right now it’s a fair battle. I can’t believe I was almost drowned by a mermaid. The person responsible for this is going to pay, big time.

It’s almost completely dark by the time I gather enough strength to stumble to my feet, slipping the knife safely back into my pocket. I still don’t know where it came from, but I’m so painfully grateful for it.

I won’t be able to explore anything today. I need to find shelter for the night otherwise I might get eaten by a minotaur or something. That doesn’t sound like pleasant. There is a narrow path between the trees. It is so little it would be comical if it wasn’t so irritating. There are a lot of roots and it’s dark.The path stops suddenly. Just cuts off in front of some big tree. I stand there for who knows how long, hysteria bubbling in my chest. I was hoping it would lead me somewhere, anywhere, at least to another clearing. But when is my life ever easy? The night has fallen and I can hear leaves and branches shifting around me, from simple night animals or from monsters that are waiting to eat me, I have no way of knowing. I don’t have the strength to walk further.

There is nowhere for me to go and the struggle with the mermaid left me both physically and emotionally exhausted. I’m not the damsel in any fairy tale, but this is usually the moment when my sidekick shows up with a helicopter. Rhodey would flay me alive if he knew.

Curling up under the tree seems like the stupidest thing to do, but I have no idea how to climb anything and stumbling around this magical forest in the dark seems like an even worse idea. I don’t have to choose between these two though because the moment I lean on the bark, it pushes inward and shows a tunnel leading down. It’s probably a trap.

Or it’s an invitation from someone helpful, like in that movie about a magical wardrobe. Maybe I’ll find a friendly faun downstairs that will give me some tea and cookies. Personally I would kill for coffee, but right now I’d take anything that isn’t water. Water is evil.

There is no faun at the foot of the tunnel, but there is a small oval room filled with bunk beds carved directly into the walls. Two of them are occupied by what seem like simple human children and a closer inspection shows me that there is someone else sleeping on the table in the middle of the room. Not directly on the table though, but wrapped into some kind of white flower petals and what seems like a silk handkerchief. There are letters E.J. near the border and I blink against the spark of recognition. It seems too improbable for even my situation, so I dismiss the thought. Instead I poke the material a little to see who’s so tiny that they need to sleep there.

A fairy. That’s who. One that looks identical to Captain America to boot. Only in a dress. And with wings... that sparkle. Suddenly I can’t breathe for how hilarious this whole situation seems to be. There are tears trying to escape my eyes. I don’t know what’s going on anymore. Where am I? What is happening? I’m Tony fucking Stark and I can deal with whatever you can dish out at me, but I can’t deal with magic. It’s too chaotic, too untrustworthy, too weird. I don’t even remember how I got myself in this situation, how am I supposed to figure out how to leave it? I press my hand against my mouth in an attempt to muffle what sound suspiciously more like sobs than the laughter, hoping that I won’t wake up the sleeping children.

“Are you alright?” Sounds the voice before me and there are tiny hands on my cheeks, probably getting wet from all the moisture there. Little fairy Captain is awake now and looking at me with concern in these baby blue eyes. I recognize that look, that’s the one I always get when something bad happens on a mission. I would give anything to have the real thing directed at me right now.

 

“I need to get home.” I say after taking few deep breaths, instead of answering the question and something in the fairy’s face crumbles at that. I have no idea what I said wrong, but it seems I did and it makes me feel bad for hurting someone who is the first person (creature?) who has shown me some kindness in this place. Not that I’ve met many of them for now, but still.

“Go to sleep now.” It says in a voice brooking no argument. It’s so fucking alike to the real Captain that something squeezes in my chest again. It softens its voice as if it can tell, running its small hand over my cheek. “We’ll help you, but you need to rest now, Tony.”

I nod weakly, a thought about asking how it knows my name flits through my head, but disappears quickly. I probably wouldn’t like the answer anyway. The fairy leads me to one of the beds and watches as I peel off my soaking clothes and slide under the thin covers in my underwear. Instead of flying back to its bed it curls on my chest and I feel bad enough to curl my palm over the little form, trying to provide at least a little warmth and protection.

Something is niggling at the back of my mind and before I can stop myself I ask “Where are the other children?” The fairy stiffens, but doesn’t answer and I’m left wondering how I even know there were other children there.

Just before I slip away, exhaustion pulling me under, I hear it whisper “They’re gone, just like you were,” but I have no way of knowing what that means.

~*~

_There is something slimy and black all around me, a little bit like oil, but floating in the air not unlike smoke. I feel like I should be choking on it, struggling to breathe, but the armour keeps the air clean and filtered, thanks for small mercies. There is nowhere for me to run, darkness closes in on me from every side and I feel a tug somewhere near my right boot. It didn’t catch the armour, it seems to just slide over the metal, but there is a branch sticking out from between the plates and I suddenly have a glaring recollection of the tree that suddenly came to life and decided to hug me a little too tight just moments ago. It will probably leave marks. I’m not sure if risking the disappointed face of our Captain will be worth the whip jokes. Especially since the branch that snuck around the chest plate and squeezed hard enough to bend it don’t resemble any whip I have ever had the pleasure of encountering._

_I’m not sure how I got myself into this darkness, I don’t know if there’s a way out. I remember fighting and the tree and now there’s that oily smoke everywhere and I can’t see further than my own hand. Someone laughs directly behind me and I whip around, repulsors shooting, but there is nothing but more smoke. Until that someone put their hands on my shoulders from behind. I’m frozen in place. I can’t move and that’s one of the few things I hate in the world more than anything, the armour suddenly becomes a metal coffin instead of my iron friend._

_A shadow sneaks before me and all I can see is a white toothed grin before something sparks and there is blue light everywhere, smoke dissipating and air clearing. I’m free, but I don’t know what happened or if we have won at all. There is something wrong about this situation when suddenly I’m in my workshop, pulling out the thin branches, wincing at all the scrapes on the armour. I’ll have to rebuild the whole thing, the chest plate isn’t salvageable, the dent in the middle so deep that the metal cracks. It’s not the first time I have to ask myself what supernatural tree even has a grip that strong. We’ll have to talk with Dr. Strange soon, ensure that from now on he’ll be answering the calls to any magic users that are more than witches trying to have some fun._

_It’s just too dangerous for us to go out there without any protection.  I still hate it as much as I did when Captain voiced the idea during a debriefing. I don’t remember when the debriefing was, but it had to have happened, it always does after a mission, I probably got yelled at for whatever wrong I did again._

_Suddenly I’m just too tired and too hurt to go at the armour again. It will be here in the morning still and few hours of sleep will only do me good. Climbing up the steps seems like too much of an effort, but it doesn’t make sense to sleep on the cot if I want my back to stop hurting at least a little._

_The team is watching Peter Pan on the television in the common room and I don’t know why they didn’t invite me. Only they did and I turned them down, didn’t I? It seems like something that might have happened, I’m not in the mood for Disney and I wanted to look at the damage to the armour. I don’t remember. I’m more tired than I thought I was._

_The bed looks perfect and I quickly pull off my work shirt and put on a warmer one. Something catches my eye on the bedside table. There’s a penknife there with a note from the Captain. I sit down on the bed to read it but then I’m falling down, down,_

_Down._

_~*~_

I wake up and come face to face with a dirty faced child peering up at me from over the edge of the bed. It looks female and has a head of red locks that kind of remind me of Natasha, to be honest. It’s something in the eyes though. I don’t go around comparing red headed children to my assassin teammate normally. She’s just looking at me motionlessly and I’m halfway to freaking out, because maybe I shouldn’t have come down to this little cave after all, when there’s a shriek from somewhere to our right and a boy around her age tackles her to the floor. I’m left blinking in surprise while they tumble on the floor, wrestling or playing or whatever.

There’s a chuckle near my ear and Fairy Steve perches on my shoulder like it’s no big deal, watching the children with the biggest smile I have seen on that face. It’s kind of painful to watch. I should maybe think about getting Cap out more, give him an occasion for these smiles more often. He’s been kind of gloomy lately, although to be fair I don’t remember a time when he wasn’t. Food for thought, I guess. For later however, since I need to focus on getting home right now.

I clear my throat and the fairy turns to me with a warm smile. It makes me forget what I was going to say for a moment, the sheer kindness in it.

“You said you were going to help me get home?” I say and watch the smile dim. I still don’t understand why it’s such a sore topic, but I really don’t want to know. Everything in this world seems to be designed with the purpose of hurting me in some way and I’m not giving them any openings this time around.

“But what about breakfast?!” The girl exclaims, finally pushing the boy away from her and climbing to her feet. “You must be starving!”

“Yeah!” The boy joins in, shaking his head to dislodge some dirt from his sandy hair. They really look like my favourite pair of government agents and it makes my stomach feel heavy. No way these are coincidences. “Especially after the mermaid tried to drown you!” He adds and I startle strong enough to dislodge tiny Steve from my shoulder. How the hell do they know about what happened?

As if sensing my thoughts, the fairy floats in front of my face and spreads its hands in a gesture of peace. I’m not sure I believe it anymore.

“Calm down, Tony, please. We’re not going to hurt you, the news spread fast in the forest, that’s how we know.” It says and I cannot help but tense up more. Something weird is going on. They know my name, they know what happened to me, tiny Steve obviously can read me enough to know what I’m thinking. I don’t understand yet, but it doesn’t feel good to me. “Please.” It repeats with a kind of desperate note Cap has when one of us is down in the field. “Just trust us. Trust **me**.”

I don’t want to. I don’t want to trust anything in this forest, especially someone I already have suspicions about. But he looks ready to break if I only say no, like his whole life depends on it, and I’m not cruel enough to do that to him. Even if it’s only a tiny version. Besides, who else am I going to trust in this place? I need help getting home, there’s nothing else to it, and these people are probably my only chance at a friendly entourage. Still, I can’t make myself tell a lie, maybe for the first time in my life.

A nod will have to suffice and it does. The fairy seems so relieved that it falls few inches in the air and I have to move my hands up to catch him. He’s tiny and fragile in my palms and it takes my breath away when I realize his wings are nothing more than thin sheets of gossamer. It would take nothing more than pinching them between my fingers and he wouldn’t be able to fly again. It’s hard to connect this delicate creature with my Captain right now, when the man I know is so strong and unbreakable. Or maybe not, who knows the art of masks better than me.

Little arms hold my face in something that might resemble a hug and the fairy makes a tiny noise of frustration. I think I hear a mumble about being too small, but the voice is too low for me to really make out the words. Nevertheless, it flutters into the air again and smiles at me softly before moving away to the table and overlooking the preparation of breakfast that the children started while we were having our emotional moment. Little sneaky rascals. It’s that very moment that I realize I’m still in my underwear and cringe a little. I don’t have much shame left after the life I’ve led, but there’s still something wrong about being almost naked in front of kids. Fortunately, my clothes are folded neatly on the bed next to me and it’s just a matter of minutes to pull them on.

Breakfast is some eggs and berries. There is an argument about the squirrel that was supposed to be a part of the meal, but the fairy absolutely refuses to skin and cook the poor thing even if it’s already dead. Seems like the kids are more vicious than it is. A thing to remember then. Although I had a feeling it would be so. Still, the food isn’t so bad and after a day of not eating I’m not going to be picky over whether I get meat or not.  Somewhere along the line the fairy came to lean on my hand again, the berry in its hands looking hugely out of place. I have a feeling it doesn’t want to let me out of its sight. I know it should make me even more suspicious, but somehow it feels comforting. The fact that these people are so similar to who I know is obviously screwing with my head.

The journey up is quick and weirdly easy, considering the tunnel is sharply made to lead down. Probably magic again. The day is bright and I shield my eyes from the sun for a minute before they get used to the light again. The position of the sun in the sky tells me almost nothing but the fact that I slept too long and should have been on the way hours ago. I must have been really exhausted. Fairy Steve sits on my shoulder again and points me in the right direction, the kids run around us and play in the bushes. I’m not sure if it’s the safest when they could lead someone to us, but decide not to worry. They know better than me about this place.

“So why won’t you fly and lead us?” I ask for lack of any better conversational topic. I hate silence and talking calms me down so there’s two birds killed with one stone. If only, maybe we’d have a decent lunch.

“Flying’s harder than it looks. I’m not used to it.” Is the answer I get.  I stare at the fairy in bafflement.

I think that over for a while, a little bit wary of asking. I have a feeling that the answer would shake my already thin trust in these people and I know I can’t afford it. If I lose all the faith I do have in them, our journey  will either be very difficult or will finish right here. I want to go home too much to risk that. But curiosity wins in the end and I sigh before stopping and scooping Fairy Steve into my palms so I can look it in the eye.

“What do you mean by that? Aren’t fairies born with their wings?” I ask and receive a haughty glare in answer before the fairy shakes its weirdly broad shoulders and floats up from my hands with a sound of frustration. I tense, but that seems to be pointless as the fairy just makes few circles in the air before me, mumbling something to itself. I strain to remember the old fairy tales, wondering if fairies could put you under some malevolent spell, but I don’t need to worry since it seems Fairy Steve is just talking to himself out of anger. At what, I’m still in the dark, but I have a feeling I’m going to find out soon enough.

As I expected, it takes only a few moments for the fairy to calm down enough to stop and keep glaring at me.

“You really don’t realize, do you?” It says and at my baleful look its expression changes from anger to pity. “You have no idea how you got here, do you?” I hate pity, but I especially hate pity on Steve’s face so I straighten up, pulling my puzzlement under the mask of neutrality.

“Does it matter? Can’t you lead me out without me knowing?” I say and watch as it almost literally withers in front of my eyes, its shoulders dropping. It rubs its tiny hands against its eyes and I’m afraid to look closer least I find out it’s crying. I already feel guilty, no need to make it worse. It gets itself together after a minute and glares at me again.

“No, it doesn’t matter. But wouldn’t you rather know who is helping you and why?” The crux of the matter is I would, very much in fact. It’s going to nag at me for the rest of the travel if I don’t and the little critter seems to know it very well. “Aren’t you curious as to how I know you?” It asks with a softer tone and I know I’m lost. I can remember exactly one time Steve used that tone with me, right after Pepper decided we work better as friends than lovers, and it worked on me the same as it does now.

“I am.” I admit and let it sit down on my palm again. It looks at me searchingly and then relaxes into my hand, sprawling comfortably.

“We are exactly who you think we are. I guess you’re right about anything else, you don’t really need to know any of it yet.” I blink and curse at him colourfully while the little fucker laughs at me. That is exactly what I didn’t want it to say and if I ask now again, I will just seem overeager. Besides, if I did forget something, it means I can remind myself of it. I just need time. And I have a lot of that right now.

I realize now that the children are waiting a few steps ahead, Tasha looking impatient and Barton smirking as if we were doing who knows what. I huff, frustrated, and start walking again with Steve cradled close to my chest this time. No need to make him fly if he’s just going to bump into something at some point.

~*~

We stop near a shallow stream sometime in the afternoon. I don’t get close to the water, still wary after yesterday’s adventure, but it seems to be safe since the kids go right into it, splashing each other and dunking to clean the dirt off themselves. They seem happy, free in a way I never would have thought I’d have a chance to see on those faces. Steve disappears for about half an hour and then comes back carrying two rabbits somehow. At my incredulous stare he shrugs and murmurs with a self-deprecating smile “Still super strong.” There is no answer to that I can give so I just laugh and take his burden from him. Apparently he changed his mind about eating woodland creatures.

The knife feels at the same time foreign and familiar in my hand, while I crouch near the rocks nearby to skin the animals. I know the theory of it, but practice turns out to be much more bloody and dirty. By the time I’m done I look like an extra from a slasher movie and I smell even worse. Steve is sitting on a rock some distance away, smirking at me. I flick a part of the rabbit at him, not looking if it made a contact before getting up and going to the stream. The feel of water splashing around my ankles still give me chills, but it’s not enough to make me stay bloody like that. I wouldn’t be able to stand it for long before going crazy.

“Gross!” The children scream before running out of the stream with delighted laughter, splashing at me in the process. I shake my head fondly and start washing the blood off of me, but I realize from the start that the shirt is a lost cause. Even at home I would have no idea how to wash the stains off, but I have a feeling that water alone would not be enough. I have two choices then, either to travel bare-chested or in the shirt that has “killer” stamped all over it. Considering that the temperature goes down together with sun, I might be forced to go with the latter.

I wring it out for now and go back ashore, smiling at the fire crackling in the ring of stones. The kids are getting dry and the rabbits hang on the makeshift grill above the flames, the meat crackling from the heat and smelling amazing. I put my shirt on the branch close by so it’ll dry quickly and sit on the stone next to the fire, content for now to enjoy the simple pleasure of being warm. I’ll get home soon, lead by the people I learnt to trust before, I just need to wait. Not my strong suit, but I can accept it when there’s no other choice.

Steve floats up to sit on my knee and leans on my outstretched arm, pulling a chuckle out me. He sits with me near the fire for so long that he gets hot all over. A red blush stains his cheeks and travels down on his chest. It’s a lovely chest, even in miniature form. Before I can stop my stupid instincts, I lean down and press a kiss to his head. Steve chuckles and I find myself grateful for the fire, since I have an excuse for my red face. I’m not sure why I did that, other than he’s warm, close, and I’ve wanted to do something like that for months now. Granted, in my head he’s usually bigger and gives me a disapproving glare right after. This is much better.

There are doubts about this situation that nibble at my consciousness, but I disregard them, not willing to give that feeling of peace up. Steve might be tiny right now, but he’s warm and firm where he’s leaning on me, and what’s more important, he’s much more open and friendly than he is in his big form. As if the rigidness, grief, and anger he almost constantly carries with him are too big to fit in him now. If anything, I’m happy for a chance to see him like this.

“What are you thinking about?” Steve asks once the rabbits are gone and we’re all lying down around the fire for few hours of sleep. He’s curled on my chest and I hope he’s warm like this.

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Options, choices. About what I forgot.” My eyes feel heavy, but it seems too important of a conversation to close them now, to cut what meagre connection I’ve managed to create with Captain.

“Go to sleep, Tony.” He answers, smile almost palpable in his voice. “You’ll find out eventually. Right now, you need to rest.” I listen, because despite what I say it’s not often that I don’t. He’s smarter than he gives an air of being and I’ve been a witness to people not giving him enough credit way too many times. One day, they’ll all learn.

This time, I dream of nothing.

~*~

There is an extreme heat coming from every side and I cough even as I wake, putting my hand around Steve instinctively as a shield of some kind. The kids are already up and looking around in panic and it takes me only a moment to realize why. Everywhere the eye goes there’s fire. It’s not possible it was from our measly pit, as it was safely secured which means that someone is targeting us because  it’s a very unlikely coincidence.

My shirt on the branch is already smoking and I pull it down and stomp some flames away, gesturing to the children to run to the stream. It’s unlikely that the fire, wherever it came from, went over the water to the other side. I remember Steve mentioning yesterday that we will have to go to the right of the stream and can’t help but shudder at the implication that this road is closed to us now. If that fire is a coincidence indeed, it’s a really sketchy one. The stillness of the figure in my palm  worries me, but there is just no time to stop for now. We need to get to safety first.

When we have the fire and smoke long behind us, we finally stop. I sink to my knees and open my hands, putting the immobile Steve on the ground. He must have inhaled much more smoke than we did, being as tiny as he is.

“You need to give him CPR.” Barton says from over my shoulder and I jerk back, surprised.

“Are you insane?” I ask in the most incredulous tone I can manage. It’s still wobbly, I find, but I just escaped forest fire and have an unconscious teammate on my hands, so I guess I should be forgiven. “He’s tiny enough for me to swallow him.”

“I bet you wouldn’t have anything against it.” Is Barton’s answer, complete with a smirk and an eyebrow wiggle. Before I can yell at him for being crude and insensitive while Steve is lying unconscious, there’s a cough from behind me and I turn back to where the fairy should be. Only he’s not there.

Instead, he’s cradled in Natasha’s tiny hands and coughing up his lungs, sucking in greedy breaths whenever he can. I blink and look at Barton accusingly.

“So what? Was that some kind of distraction technique?”

“It worked, didn’t it?” He says with a shrug and goes to Natasha, poking at Steve lightly. “Don’t do that again, Tinkerbell.”

“What?” Steve croaks out and gives Barton a baleful stare. Natasha deposits him in my own hands before I even register moving in their direction and Steve turns his gaze up to me. “I don’t understand that reference.”  


“I’ll show you the movie when we get back.” I promise and don’t look too closely to examine why my throat feels so tight. It’s probably the smoke.

~*~

We find out the cause of the fire a few miles into our journey, sleeping under a great oak. We had to take a longer route as the short one that we were taking yesterday was still burning slowly. The flames weren’t big enough to hurt us anymore, but the amount of smoke in the area was enough to choke an adult person. Considering we have only one of these in our party, but two children, and one tiny fairy, we decided not to risk it. I want to go home as soon as possible, that’s true, but even I realize that sacrificing the lives of my colleagues would be a little bit too selfish.

The dragon is huge and intimidating, its green scales lighting up with a metallic sheen every time the sun hits them at an angle. I want to go closer and examine what they are made of, but am stopped in my tracks by three pairs of glares. Not a good idea then. The creature’s paws are still covered in soot and the smoke escapes its muzzle every time it breathes out, making little clouds float around its rounded horns. It’s actually really beautiful, like only really dangerous predators can be beautiful and I find myself short of breath for a moment when I look at it.

And then it opens its eyes and looks straight at us. I can see the kids readying themselves for a fight, but we all know that if the dragon decides to kill us, we’ll be helpless to stop him. Instead of snapping its massing jaw at us and swallowing us whole, it lets out something akin to a wail and puts its head right at my feet with a sob.

“Our friend thought he had burnt you by accident when he started the fire in the forest.” Says a familiar voice and I snap my head back to the oak where Thor leans casually on the big tree. He’s clothed in more Earthly clothing than I’ve ever seen him in (save that one time with a robe and a thong, but that doesn’t count), even if it’s not exactly modern fashion. He seems to be wearing furs and some heavy leathers. Mjolnir is gone from its place at Thor’s hip, but there’s a giant axe at his back and I’m sure he knows how to use it just as well as his trusty hammer.

“You’re late.” I say and take few steps to him. You can always count on Thor when it comes to hugs and I’m not disappointed this time, even if the hand holding Steve between us make it a little painful.

“The magician we asked for help expected you to be back by now. We have been sent as reinforcements in case something happened to your avatars.” Thor says and I send a questioning glance at Steve who shrugs and repeats “Didn’t matter.” which seems to become his favourite phrase as of lately. I will find all the details of this at one point in the future.

“It seems the time here goes slower than we thought.” Natasha says, her hand petting the smooth scales on the dragon and suddenly I have a realization that should have come to me sooner. I’m losing touch.

“Bruce?” The dragon raises its head slightly from the ground and looks at me for a moment before pushing at me with its tail and showing its teeth in what I can only assume is supposed to be a smile. Well, that just became more interesting.

~*~

Flying has been my favourite thing since I learned how to shed the plane around me and just do it. Being in the air while on a back of a dragon? Not as pleasurable. One would think that because the back of the creature is all big and scaly it would be pretty easy to stay up, but I found myself slipping down almost constantly. The only reason I wasn’t plastered flat on the ground below was because Steve kept yelling high pitched warnings in my ear so I could grab a spike in the last moment and straighten myself up.

The view was almost worth it. The whole place looked much more friendly and picturesque from up above, the lush greens and sparkling blues of water scattered everywhere. The big plus is you can’t see anything that might want to eat or kill you from this height so no monster viewings for us. Steve keeps clinging to my scorched collar, he must not like the way we travel now very much. We did agree though that it would be the easiest and quickest way to get to the ‘gate’ that they’re telling me will get me back up into real world. Seems almost too easy for me, but I guess they would know better.

I wonder once again why I would see my friends in these forms and not as their normal selves, but I suppose the time for explanations will come later. Hopefully when we’re back in the kitchen in the tower drinking coffee. I miss coffee. There’s nothing better than a fresh brew of Brazilian coffee in the morning or when you just want to stay up a little longer than your body would like to. I have this special blend that Pepper found for me in her third year of being my PA, it can be bought only in two stores in New York, but it is so worth it. I went and bought her shoes myself for that one.

She had to exchange the model I bought for something she actually liked, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

Bruce lurches to the side and everyone clings to their spikes, cursing him for doing that. I lean over the side and discover the reason, a pack of flying animals keep attacking the mighty dragon on his stomach. They look like a lion and an eagle had sex and then produced the ugliest offspring in the world, but from the wounded noises Bruce keeps making they don’t have to be pretty to be dangerous. Everyone has a weak point and it seems Bruce’s is his unscaled stomach. Kind of makes sense.

Yelling at the big green lump to land leads to nothing as he, apparently, cannot hear me, but if we keep flying the monsters will eventually hurt him enough to do damage, which would be bad for several reasons.

 And to think that just moments ago I was enjoying the monster-free atmosphere.

Climbing up the scales on a moving dragon is probably one of the dumbest things I’ve ever done in my life, but someone had to do it and I was sitting at the front. It’s much easier to persuade Bruce to land on the nearest patch of grass when I can yell into his ear. Unfortunately, it’s not enough to get these monsters off our tail.

Thor is the first to jump off the dragon’s back and attack them with his axe. His movements are familiar, but I can’t help but miss the blowing of his cape when he moves around. I got kind of used to its sight during battle. Bruce is a close second and I would be happy to say that in that moment we won, because dragon wins against anything, but no such luck. The more the creatures fall, the more of them swipe from the sky and there seems to be no end to them.

“Go!” Thor yells, beheading one of the ugly things and I startle enough to leave an opening for one of them to open a gash on my arm. “You need to leave!”

I start to protest when I feel a tug on my pants. Clint and Natasha are pulling at me relentlessly, Steve clearing the path with his sparkly magic. I don’t think he’s supposed to use his hands like I use them while firing repulsors, but I won’t be the one to tell him that. Strangely enough, once we’re a few metres away the deadly crowd seems to clear up. Nothing is following us. Only now do I realize that in the heat of the moment I let myself be pulled away from our friends, probably leaving them to their death.

I turn to go back, but my way is blocked.

“You can’t go back, we need to get you out!” Clint screams at me. He’s hurt, we all are, and I know that to turn would be to go to my death. I don’t care.

“We can’t just leave them like that!” I yellback frustrated and try to push past him, but it’s not as easy as it should be, seeing as he’s half my height. “They’ll die!”

“They won’t, because we’re not real!” Natasha says coming up to Clint’s side and I freeze in my tracks. “You imagined us to help you get back. We can’t die.”

“But you can.” Steve, or what I thought to this moment was him, speaks from my shoulder and smiles a little. “You need to get out of here, Tony. Time is running out.”

“What?” I manage to croak out.

“You need to wake up before something does succeed in killing you.” Says the blond child. “Otherwise you won’t wake up at all.”

One look behind him is enough to realize that I would certainly not come back from that battle. I don’t know right now if what they’re saying is true or if they’re just trying to push me forward easily, but it did strike me as strange that all of them were acting so friendly from the beginning. They’re not bad people in reality, none of us are, but we’re not exactly social. Even Steve, who is the heart of our team, is morose more often than he is happy. And that avatar I apparently made up of him kept to being cheery and up-beat for the whole journey. Even when it almost died.

I turn around and start going in the direction of the gate, the destination suddenly clear in my mind. I’m not sure if I didn’t know the way before or if I somehow made myself not know. All three of my companions stay quiet for our hike, not bothering me with any more information that I wouldn’t even be able to trust. Where are we anyway? I was so sure it was some kind of magical dimension, but if the talk about dreaming and making them up is true we have to be in my own head somehow.

I hate magic.

No one can ever explain plausibly how it works. And even when you do get a clue, it does something completely opposite and you’re back at square one. The wizard we fought had to be pretty powerful though. Not every magic user around can mess with someone’s head, much less lock them in it. I keep remembering flashes of the battle as we walk, but it doesn’t tell me when he could have put that spell on me. Maybe it was when those tentacles were holding me? I was so sure it was more of a scare them to death technique. Oh well, I have a feeling we’ll meet again. No clue if I’ll be able to ask him anything though.

Magical types are hardly talkative these days. I miss times when all we had to worry about was Loki, lock him in the room with Thor or give him an upper hand and he’ll just gloat his plan at you. Pretty easy to stop afterwards.

~*~

The gate is- unimpressive. It’s not even really a gate. It’s a wooden door that’s hardly holding up. The sheer thought of trying to go through it fills me with dread. What if it just decided to crumble on itself when I pass through? Can I even die from an imaginary door falling on my head? Or get a concussion? There’s only one problem. The door is locked.

“So.” I say eloquently, pulling on the doorknob again.

“I guess you need a key?” The little girl ventures and shrugs at my unimpressed look.

“It makes sense that he wouldn’t just let you go through though, doesn’t it?” The fairy says before trying its magic on the door. “Nope. Still locked. Don’t know why I thought it would work anyway.”

“We need to find a wizard then.” I say, kicking sullenly at the doorframe. Maybe if it’ll fall apart there will just be a hole I can pass through. Or maybe we could just take the door off its hinges, it’s not like anyone’s going to sue us for breaking and entering here.

A flash of red hot energy singes my cheek before I have time to think about it further and I duck instinctively behind the closest tree. It seems to be a good idea as more of the energy projectiles fly around, putting things on fire. The children are curled behind a big rock, clutching each other in fear. It’s such an uncharacteristic act that I know immediately what’s going on.

The wizard is here, which makes the job of finding him much easier. My unconscious is terrified of him though, which is probably not going to make this fight pleasurable. The guy did lock me up with my head after all, some trauma is excusable.

“Such a brave man when you taunted me in the outside world.” A weirdly nice voice comes out from all around us. The guy is in power and he wants me to know it. “Not so brave now. Perhaps a little incentive is a way to go.”

There is a scream.

I run out from behind my tree only to see a burnt carcass of a fairy laying on the ground. I don’t know what I’m more angry at. That the bastard killed Steve, or that he killed a part of my mind that represented my dear Captain.

“Ah, I knew that would lure you out.” The figure is nothing more but a shape of a man, covered in oily black, without any future. I would almost call him a shadow, but he’s distinctly real in a way things you can’t pass through are. He grins and all I can see is a row of sharp white teeth.

Like a mermaid, something in my head tells me and I can’t help the shiver that goes through me. The kids curl tighter behind the rock and I realize something. Maybe the guy is the one with magic here, and maybe he has the advantage of me being a tiny bit scared of him. What he doesn’t seem to get is that we are still in my head. And I can be always sure of one thing, my mind will always be on my side.

It’s easy to imagine a row of numbers that take up the design of my suit. No sooner do I think of them, than the warm metal slithers over my skin, covering me in my armour. I have the advantage here and I can’t forget it. He might throw me some curves here and there to slow me down, but ultimately I will come up with something to overcome it. It’s my head. It’s my territory and he doesn’t get to strike my friends in front of me.

Even if they’re imaginary.

The fight isn’t long and I feel almost disappointed. After all the scare techniques and traps he put out for me, it’s a huge let down. Maybe he’s not as powerful when in someone’s head as I thought.

Once I have the key opening the door is easy. Before I pass I turn around to say goodbye to the children, but they’re gone. The fairy is gone too. I suppose they fulfilled their mission, they got me to the gate. It would be nice to be able to say goodbye though. They might have been part of my head, but we did spend few nice days together.

I step through the door…

~*~

…and wake up to arms holding me down.

“..down. Calm down, Tony, can you even hear me?” Resounds from above me and I blink the fog out of my eyes to see Steve peering down at me. “You’re awake.” He says, some weird disbelief colouring his voice.

“Shouldn’t I be?” I answer and cough a few times, only now feeling how parched my throat is. Steve is quick in getting a glass of water to my lips and although I’d like something stronger and more alcoholic, I can appreciate the gesture. “How long was I out?” I ask when I’m done drinking.

“Few days.” He answers, something screwing up his face. I have to blink few times before I know it’s supposed to be a smile.

“Jarvis, how long was I out?” I address the most reliable source of information in the place and get a prompt reply.

“Eight days, seventeen hours and forty-three minutes, sir, although you did show signs of waking a few times.”

Captain at my bedside seems to be chastised at being called out on his “few” lie so quickly, but he should have known better by now.

“Were you worried?” I ask with a slight smirk while trying to get the sleep out of my eyes. The strange silence makes me abandon the task however just so I can look up at the man next to me. He’s currently busy glaring at me so I shouldn’t have bothered.

“Of course I was worried!” Steve says and shakes me by the back of my neck like some unruly puppy. “You were asleep for over a week!” I open my eyes to protest the rough treatment since it wasn’t strictly my fault this time (although I might be getting some flashes of me calling the wizard some colourful names and taunting him to prove his great power, but I can hardly be held responsible for that, that’s just how I fight), when the next words kind of freeze me in my tracks. “You did kind of promise to take me out.”

I can only stare as the big super soldier sits at my bedside with that stubborn tilt to his jaw that used to drive me mad at the start of the Initiative and a blush slowly rising on his face. I don’t remember him saying yes and it’s probably weird that this is what pisses me off the most about the whole situation.

“A promise is a promise.” I say finally and look with a grin as Steve ducks his head so I wouldn’t see his answering grin.

Maybe one day I’ll talk him into wearing glittery wings and we can role-play Peter Pan. 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is work produced for Cap_IM Reverse Big Bang to accompany a brilliant piece of art produced by Wiredoll.
> 
> I would like to thank her here for constant support and cheering me on when I was constantly failing on all counts. I'm still not sure why didn't she give up on me. Her art gave me a moment of inspiration when I thought I could write again and I haven't felt that excited in months and I cannot express how dear that feeling was to me. So, thank you, from all my heart. It might not have helped me in a long run and this isn't a high quality work, neither is this what you expected, but I hope you still like it.
> 
> It's for you Teresa, from someone you made feel alive again, even if just for few weeks.
> 
>  
> 
> Betaed as always by lovely the_me09


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